The Fall of the Dragons
by NomNomNom.Cookies
Summary: The story of Robert's Rebellion told from many characters viewpoints. The betrothal of Lyanna to Robert and of Brandon to Catelyn was meant to bring prosperity and alliances to the North. Instead, a broken family, a bloody realm and a man who lives in the past is all that remains when all is said and done.
1. Chapter 1

**The Fall of the Dragons.  
Chapter I: The Wolf Maid and The Storm Lord.**

**A/N: **It's certainly been a while since I posted anything on here! But, I decided I wanted to write again, so here we go!Just a couple of things before I start:

\- This chronicles Roberts Rebellion from start to finish and the immediate aftermath. I'm starting this with the announcement of the betrothal of Lyanna and Robert and Brandon and Catelyn, because that's where I feel it should start; not on a bloody war field.

\- There will be graphic descriptions of violence and adult themes. Don't like, don't read.

\- While I do support the R + L = J theory (it's logical and it fits with Lyanna's "injuries"), I am aware that not everyone else does. Some people still believe that Jon is Ned's son, and that's fine! We all have opinions and they do make for good debates, but please, if you come on here to bitch about it, get a life. Although, saying I support the theory, I don't believe Lyanna ran off with Rhaegar.  
1). _"Love is sweet dearest Ned, but it cannot change a man's nature_." This is what Lyanna said upon finding out about Robert's bastard in the Vale. If she says this about an unmarried man, why would she run off with a man married with 2 children?  
2). She's a Stark. And we all know how honourable the Starks are. Doesn't seem like its' in her nature to do something like that. While she may have had the "wolfs blood", I don't think she'd want to be publicly dishonoured and humiliated.

\- Told from the PoV of many characters including; Lyanna, Brandon, Ned, Benjen, Robert, Rhaegar, Elia, Jaime, Cersei, Tywin, Stannis, Doran and probably others down the line. Please note, the same events may take place in multiple PoV's, just to see the difference from one character to another. I will be putting the Westerosi date at the beginning to help people keep track. I'll also be putting who I'm using as face claims for the characters at the bottom of this chapter, and add others in as we go along.

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**Lyanna; 280 AL.**

"Get up, stupid!" Lyanna mocked half-heartedly. She held the tourney sword with one hand, her grip tight on the wooden pommel. Her other arm was stretched out so to help her gain her balance and to prevent her from falling in the pool in the godswood. She was agilely perched on a rock, left foot flat against the rock, her right foot crooked to the ball of her feet. She wore a small smirk on her face, her eyes alight with triumph. Her grey eyes were focused on her brother, Benjen, 2 years younger than herself at one and ten years old. He was sat upright, the water pooled around his middle, his knees bent and his arms keeping his head from falling in the water. He'd been standing on the rock a yard away when Lyanna struck his weary side and sent him falling.

"That's not fair!" Benjen complained loudly. He huffed and stood up; he was shorter than her by several inches, his dark hair was beginning to grow wild around his face. She reminded him of Brandon when he was that age. But, Brandon was four years her elder and being trained for Lordship of the North. Her other brother Eddard – called Ned to family and close friends – was being fostered in the Vale, but was due home for a visit soon. In a letter, he'd been telling them of his friend, Robert Baratheon and how he would come up North with him and then Ned would go to Roberts' homeland of the Stormlands. "I don't think Ned would survive the Stormlands – he's not wanton enough," Brandon had commented, to Lyanna's amusement and to her fathers' chagrin. Benjen did not know what the word had meant, so had taken to writing that into a letter to Ned. Ned's response was that of chastisement of not to corrupt the youngest sibling – Robert's visit would be enough to do that without the elder Stark son helping matters.

"How is not fair, dear brother? I won, you lost," Lyanna shrugged and stepped back on to dry land. She lost her footing however, when Benjen aimed a shot at the back of her knee. Buckling, she landed against the heart tree.

"No, now _you've_ lost dear sister," Benjen rectified. Lyanna glared at him. Benjen high tailed it, running full pelt to the castle, Lyanna hot on his heels. Rounding the corners at high speeds, Lyanna managed to dodge soldiers, washerwomen and farmers that were residents in Winterfell. She was however, unable to dodge her father's gaze.

"Lyanna!" Her father had a booming voice – men listened when he spoke; he was a hard man to avoid. She stopped, her back to his face as she gritted her teeth for the lecture that was surely about to happen. Turning around, she heard her father's audible sigh. Brandon beside him, chuckling away quietly was off putting. Benjen had hidden behind a wheelbarrow to watch and not face his sister. "How many times do I have to tell you – you are a daughter of Winterfell, not a son."

"And yet, father, I seem to recall that it's women who give birth to the sons. If women can birth a child, why can't I fight with a sword?"

"It's not done that way, my dear child."

"If I ever marry, I hope you find me a husband who does not mind being beaten by a woman, because I _will_ fight, father."

Her father chuckled at that comment and Brandon had to hide his laughter with his fist. Rickard Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North, came down to join his daughter, and rested at her height, placing a hand on his shoulder and stroking her cheek affectionately. "My dear, when you marry, you can let your daughters fight. You can learn to joust if it please you. But, while you are in Winterfell, you do as I say. Especially when you're betrothed is here."

"My what?!"

"You are to marry Lord Robert Baratheon of Storms End. Lord of the Stormlands and head of a powerful House. The stag and the dire wolf will be united." Rickard cast a gaze to his still chuckling son and heir. "As will the trout and the dire wolf when Brandon marries Catelyn Tully of Riverrun," an arched eyebrow of Rickard's was a silent challenge to his son, who had stopped laughing and instead looked quite serious. Serious for Brandon, by any means.

"When will they be here?" Brandon asked solemnly.

"Ned will be here within the fortnight. Catelyn in a couple of moons time."

"Very well, father," said Brandon, before he turned on his heel and wandered away.

The next week or so was spent readying the castle for the party's arrival. A son of Winterfell returning, and the daughter leaving to seal an alliance with her maidenhead. Lyanna grumbled to Benjen, sympathised with Brandon and spoke sweet words to her father. She'd heard rumours about the Baratheon she was to wed, and not all were pleasant.

She took care to look nice on the day they were to arrive. She wore her hair loose , only a braid around her head decorated her dark brown curls. She wore a grey dress, made by her own hand, finely stitched with white thread. She wore a dire wolf pendant and her cloak was dark grey, a roaring dire wolf on the back of it. She stood in between her brothers and smiled fondly at Ned when he appeared underneath a dire wolf banner. He was dressed in Stark colours, but his clothes were finer than fathers, Brandon's or Benjen's. She supposed that the Eyrie would house more elegant finery, being a southern castle.

Under a yellow banner, a stag prancing in the light wind, a man – handsome, well-muscled, clean shaven and with a strong face and kind eyes rode behind her brother. The Lord of Storms End. He wore yellow and black, a long sword at his hip – the mantle a stags head – and a Warhammer on his back. It was an ugly thing, spiked and dull grey. The horses lined up in front of them, Lord Arryn, under his blue and white moon and falcon banner joined the young Lord and the son of Winterfell.

Lord Arryn paid his respects to Lyanna's father, shaking hands with her father, before shaking hands with Brandon, and dropping to one knee to kiss Lyanna's hand and moving on to ruffle Benjen's hair. Ned hugged father and Brandon, kissed Lyanna's cheek and squeezed her hands, before promising Benjen he'd take him to the Eyrie one day. Robert paid his respects, bowing to Lord Stark, shaking Brandon's hand and dipping his head. He approached Lyanna cautiously. She stood tall, her face like stone as she gazed upon this man. He dropped to one knee to kiss her hand. "My Lady," he murmured in a voice that sounded like it could be booming like her fathers. He stood once more and pressed something into her hand. "A token of my affection. Ned told me you had a fondness for flowers and beauty." Opening her hand, Lyanna smiled softly at the falcon's feather and the pretty pale pink rose in her hand.

"Thank you, my Lord. If it please you, my name is Lyanna. You can use it," she smiled softly at him, charmed by his gift.

"And mine is Robert. And it would please me greatly to call you Lyanna. I was never a fan of courtesy," he chuckled. Lyanna joined in. She did not miss the audible sigh of relief from her father or Lord Arryn.

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I really wanted to get a feel for the Stark family dynamics in this chapter. I also wanted to add a bit of humour to this chapter with the way the betrothal was announced, and to make Lyanna and Robert get on. I also thought the feather tribute from the show was touching, and wanted to include that here.

**Face claims: (Bannerman and retainers will be added later).**

I've only listed the main characters involved in this for the time being. Other characters will come along with face claims later on when they become relevant. I just wanted to get the bulk of the characters out of the way beforehand.

Elia Martell is listed with the Targaryen's – she is one by marriage.  
Jaime Lannister is listed with the Kingsguard.  
I used actors from the show as well, but please bear in mind, these events take place years before the actual show timescale.  
This is my interpretation of the characters.

_**House Stark:**_

**Lyanna Stark** – Anna Popplewell. Purely because she's not the classic beauty that the other popular FC's are, and she looks the age of Lyanna at the time of her death. That's 16, not 24.  
**Brandon Stark – **Henry Cavill.  
**Eddard "Ned" Stark – **Sam Claflin.  
**Benjen Stark – **Logan Lerman.  
**Lord Rickard Stark – **Bernard Hill.

_**House Targaryen:**_

**King Aerys "The Mad King" – **Christopher Lee.  
**Queen Rhaelle – **Charlize Thereon.  
**Prince Rhaegar – **Orlando Bloom (as seen as Legolas, without the pointy ears).  
**Princess Elia – **Frieda Pinto.  
**Princess Rhaenys – **Raffey Cassidy.  
**Prince Viserys – **Dylan Sprouse (as a child).

I didn't see a point doing one for Prince Aegon, as he was just a baby.

_**House Baratheon:**_

**Lord Robert Baratheon – **Chris Hemsworth.  
**Stannis Baratheon – **Mark Strong.

_**House Lannister: **_

**Lord Tywin Lannister – **Charles Dance.  
**Cersei Lannister – **Claire Holt.  
**Ser Kevan Lannister – **Ian Gelder.

_**House Martell:**_

**Prince Doran Martell – **Alexander Siddig.  
**Prince Oberyn Martell – **Pedro Pascal.  
**Mellario of Norvos – **Gina Torres.

_**House Tully: **_

**Lord Hoster Tully – **Christopher Newman.**  
Ser Brynden Tully – **Clive Russell.**  
Edmure Tully – **David Wenham.**  
Catelyn Tully – **Bryce Dallas Howard.**  
Lysa Tully –** Miranda Otto.

_**House Arryn:**_

**Jon Arryn – **John Standing.

_**The Kingsguard:**_

**Ser Gerold Hightower "The White Bull" – **Stephan Lang.**  
Prince Lewyn Martell – **Oded Fehr.**  
Ser Barristan Selmy "Barristan the Bold" – **Ian McElhinney.**  
Ser Oswell Whent – **Charlie Bewley.**  
Jaime Lannister**_** – **_Bradley James.  
**Ser Arthur Dayne "Sword of the Morning" – **Clive Owen.**  
Ser Jonathor Darry – **Arnold Vosloo. 


	2. Chapter 2

**The Fall of the Dragons.  
Chapter II: The Knight of Casterly Rock.**

**A/N: **Just wanted to say thank you to everyone who has read so far! It means a lot. Enjoy!

Sorry for the incredibly long delay, work and other things had me tied up, and this was a tricky chapter to write. I wanted Jaime as a youth explored, without the incest thing going on and the pressure of him being in the Kings guard.

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**Arthur Dayne; 280 AL**

Arthur pressed the bay charger faster. His retinue, including his sworn brother, Ser Barristan, rode with him. The white banner of the Kingsguard streamed behind him, moving like a cloud in the gusty wind. The weather had been fierce; the wind from the Stormlands had caused trouble with the ships coming into port. One galley had crashed. The captain had been burnt on His Grace's orders for that. It was the Queen who suffered though. If Arthur closed his eyes, he could still smell the flesh burning and the blood boiling. He could hear the Queen's sobs in the night, and the Kings cackles and groans as he took his due. He saw Rhaella the morning after as he escorted Her Grace and Prince Viserys to the Sept of Baelor. He did not miss her wince as she climbed into her litter, nor the look in her eyes. Sadness and hatred would be expected; the emptiness he found instead was unnerving.

_Her eyes have been closed for years. They must be to have a husband like Aerys._

"Look sharp. You too, Lannister," Arthur said to the group. He was unsure why Lord Sumner had brought _both _squires. Surely one was enough. But, sooner the boys would be men and expecting their knighthoods. They'd need a taste of battle, particularly as Jaime Lannister would one day become one of the great Lords of Westeros. He'd noticed Jaime looking around warily. He couldn't blame the boy; he remembered his first ride to battle. Gut wrenching nerves took over, before the battle fever set it. Arthur sighed; he'd been given command to get rid of this Kingswood Brotherhood. The final straw for the King had been when Ser Gerold had been wounded protecting the Princess Elia's party.

They could hear the camaraderie of men up ahead. He urged his horse on faster when they came across the Brotherhood harassing a merchant and his group of travellers. Arthur charged, drawing Dawn and knocking one man on the head with the hilt of the greatsword. One man swung as Arthur rode past; he missed. Arthur parried the blow, turning his horse sharply and lopped the man's head off with a clean sweep. He was saddened to see it was a youth, a youth who'd probably never had a proper sword fighting lesson before. Theirs were the worst deaths.

He saw Barristan leap from his horse and kill two men in the space of three swings of his sword. Barristan was a true knight. Honourable and loyal to the bone; he'd die for his King. Then again, so would Arthur, even after all the horror he'd seen.

He heard a yell, a shout or a curse or a scream of pain, he could not tell. Battle fever had set in him. While he kept his honour, everything slowed down to mesmerising, slow movements. It was like watching snow fall, slowly, then melting all at once when a sword got through to the heart.

After cutting down his fifth man, he caught eye of Jaime is combat with the leader of the Kigswood Brotherhood. The Smiling Knight, they'd named him. Arthur watched for a moment, Dawn slack at his side, glistening softly in the late afternoon light.

He watched Jaime parry blow after blow and swing at the Knights head a few times. Jaime was undoubtedly skilled, but the Knight had experience on him. It was fairly easy to guess a squire's moves, particularly if they are not battle honed.

Arthur moved over, pushing Jaime out of the way to safety before parrying the Knights thrust. Arthur Charged at him, aiming for the shoulder. The Smiling Knight carried it and pushed the thrust away before he attempted a high swing at Arthur's head. The Knight was experienced, but Arthur was better. Dawn's swing broke the Smiling Knights sword near the hilt. The Knight stumbled as the weight loss affected his balance. He took a moment to recover.

"Get yourself another sword," Arthur spoke, eyes always on the Knight. "I refuse to fight an unarmed opponent."

"Very well, ser. But, it's that white sword of yours I want."

"Then you shall have it, ser." The Smiling Knight now had his sword, and the duel began again. Parry, block, thrust, carry, bull charge; on it went until Arthur saw an opening and Dawn went through mail at the man's armpit. He brought Dawn down and around to end the pain. His head rolled to the side, curling against the limp body as the blood pooled around it.

Arthur paused a moment to assess the situation. All the Brotherhood were dead. Arthur had lost 5 men; Ser Barristan was injured, though it could be easily tended to my Grand Maester Pycelle. Other injuries and complaints ventured from exhaustion to a possible loss of limb. Arthur would ache in the morning, but he'd done his duty.

He took a moment to look at the Lannister boy; he was tall, comely and strong for his age. Undoubtedly, an exceptional fighter – not surprising when you consider where he came from. He was currently piling armour from the dead up. Arthur had made him wear armour from the armoury, instead of his own. Too ostentatious for the job ahead. While Lannister had frowned, he's conceded with some grace. He did beg to be allowed to use his own sword, which Arthur allowed.

"Lannister," Arthur called. "Over here." Jaime came at once, all eagerness with a shy look on his face. _Does the boy know the meaning of shy?_ "Clean your sword, and kneel."

Jaime's eyes went wide. He hurridly cleaned his sword on the grass, giving it a last rub on his tunic. Arthur ahd already sheathed Dawn, but jaime's sword would work just as well. Taking it from the buy, he cleared his throat as the party gathered round in a circle. "Jaime of House Lannister," he spoke clearly and loudly, not something he'd often have to do. "For your bravery in the Battle of the Kigswood Brotherhood, and your skill at combat," a touch on the right shoulder with the blade. "In the name of the Warrior I charge you to be brave." The sword moves from right shoulder to left. "In the name of the Father I charge you to be just." Right shoulder. "In the name of the Mother I charge you to defend the young and innocent." The left. "In the name of the Maid I charge you to protect all women." He lowered the sword, and planted it in the ground. Jaime's head was bowed. "Arise, Ser Jaime."

The boy rose a man, an awkward smile on his face. He seemed all of a sudden gangly and uncomfortable on his feet, as if he'd realised what the meaning of knighthood meant to him; the burden on his shoulders. The other men in the group applauded, clapped him on the back, hooted and hurrahed to the cries of the "Lion of the Rock" or the "Lion of Lannister".

Selmy approached him quietly, a slight limp to his walk. "He'll do well."

"In time."

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I wanted Jaime's knighthood in this story. I didn't want the first time we meet him to be fucking Cersei or arguing with Tywin. I know he doesn't speak, and I know the main focus is on Dayne, but I wanted a glimmer of what I thought Jaime was like before he killed Aerys.

**Face claims: (Bannerman and retainers will be added later).**

I've only listed the main characters involved in this for the time being. Other characters will come along with face claims later on when they become relevant. I just wanted to get the bulk of the characters out of the way beforehand.

Elia Martell is listed with the Targaryen's – she is one by marriage.  
Jaime Lannister is listed with the Kingsguard.  
I used actors from the show as well, but please bear in mind, these events take place years before the actual show timescale.  
This is my interpretation of the characters.

_**House Stark:**_

**Lyanna Stark** – Anna Popplewell. Purely because she's not the classic beauty that the other popular FC's are, and she looks the age of Lyanna at the time of her death. That's 16, not 24.  
**Brandon Stark – **Henry Cavill.  
**Eddard "Ned" Stark – **Sam Claflin.  
**Benjen Stark – **Logan Lerman.  
**Lord Rickard Stark – **Bernard Hill.

_**House Targaryen:**_

**King Aerys "The Mad King" – **Christopher Lee.  
**Queen Rhaelle – **Charlize Thereon.  
**Prince Rhaegar – **Orlando Bloom (as seen as Legolas, without the pointy ears).  
**Princess Elia – **Frieda Pinto.  
**Princess Rhaenys – **Raffey Cassidy.  
**Prince Viserys – **Dylan Sprouse (as a child).

I didn't see a point doing one for Prince Aegon, as he was just a baby.

_**House Baratheon:**_

**Lord Robert Baratheon – **Chris Hemsworth.  
**Stannis Baratheon – **Mark Strong.

_**House Lannister: **_

**Lord Tywin Lannister – **Charles Dance.  
**Cersei Lannister – **Claire Holt.  
**Ser Kevan Lannister – **Ian Gelder.

_**House Martell:**_

**Prince Doran Martell – **Alexander Siddig.  
**Prince Oberyn Martell – **Pedro Pascal.  
**Mellario of Norvos – **Gina Torres.

_**House Tully: **_

**Lord Hoster Tully – **Christopher Newman.**  
Ser Brynden Tully – **Clive Russell.**  
Edmure Tully – **David Wenham.**  
Catelyn Tully – **Bryce Dallas Howard.**  
Lysa Tully –** Miranda Otto.

_**House Arryn:**_

**Jon Arryn – **John Standing.

_**The Kingsguard:**_

**Ser Gerold Hightower "The White Bull" – **Stephan Lang.**  
Prince Lewyn Martell – **Oded Fehr.**  
Ser Barristan Selmy "Barristan the Bold" – **Ian McElhinney.**  
Ser Oswell Whent – **Charlie Bewley.**  
Jaime Lannister**_** – **_Bradley James.  
**Ser Arthur Dayne "Sword of the Morning" – **Clive Owen.**  
Ser Jonathor Darry – **Arnold Vosloo. 


	3. Chapter 3

**The Fall of the Dragons.  
Chapter III: The Dragon must have Three Heads.**

**A/N: **I will admit to shifting some things around to suit the story; Rhaenys' birth, Jaime's knighting, etc. Just minor time frames and ages, I'm not changing deaths or anything in case I get a load of whiny bitching in reviews. If you decide you have a problem with me changing things, kindly grow up and take your whining elsewhere. I'm also aware there were a couple of typo's in the last chapter. That was after I proof-read about 10 times. Apologies for that.

Once again, thanks to everyone who's read, favourite and reviewed!

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**Rhaegar's POV. 280 AL.**

He sat on the bed, looking at the babe cradled in his wife's arms. A little girl. A Princess of the realm. A daughter of the Sun. A daughter of the Dragon. "The dragon must have three heads," he muttered to no one and everyone.

His wife looked up. She was a beauty, to be sure, but _frail. _ It had been over a month since Rhaenys' birth and Elia Martell was still abed, ill and recovering. He imagined any birth would leave a woman frail, but surely after several days, they'd be up and on the road to recovery. Not Elia. She looked as ghastly and as worn out as she did on the night she birthed the babe. Her hair hung limp and lank from her head, falling loosely to her shoulders and beyond to her lower waist. Her eyes glistened with love for the babe in her arms, but the dark circles underneath suggested her weariness was still ongoing. Her lips were pursed in concentration, her nostrils flared with every breath and her body seemed to rock with subtle winces. Her skin, normally clear with a slight tint to her cheeks from laugther – Ashara always made Elia laugh – was covered in a slight sheen of sweat.

"Will she be well enough to birth another?" Rhaegar asked. Some would call him insensitive; Lewyn was one of them, judging by the glare he threw towards the Crown Prince. Rhaegar knew he was only concerned for his niece so his folly was immediately forgiven. It took a moment to realise the real reason behind the glare. Lewyn was Dornish. Elia was Dornish. According to their customs, Rhaenys was heir to the throne after Rhaegar. Not here though. Not in the capitol, or the Reach or the North. A son was needed.

"Difficult to say, Your Highness. She could, if she was given ample time to recover her strength and care for the princess," repeated Maester Vylman in his Dornish drones. At least Elia and Lewyn had been highborn enough to not have the dulcet tones the commoners in Dorne did – the Maester, however, was a different story. He was sent at Oberyn's demands, as he had been in the service of the Martells for a number of years. He knew Elia's frailties the way the Maesters in the city did not. Oberyn had all but commanded that he be Elia's personal Maester during her pregnancy. Rhaegar had allowed it, only because seeing Pycelle insulted was a comedic sight for the Kingsguard to indulge in.

_The Prince strode into the hall, embroidered in suns and spears, oranges and golds and yellows. A tall man, broad of shoulder but with a kind face ambled behind him. Rhaegar did not miss the limp of the man. He watched his father's face as the King sat on the throne. Thankfully, no one had been executed today – he didn't think that Oberyn would like the thought of his heavily pregnant sister witnessing such things. Rhaegar had already disappointed his father this morning by giving Elia his council seat to sit in: _

"_Only those permitted by ME are allowed to sit there, boy," his father had growled. "And you give the Sun the Dragon's seat!" _

"_Elia is my wife, and bears my child within her. The child will be a dragon, I remind you, father," Rhaegar spoke quietly, he had no need to raise his voice, as he helped Elia into her seat, one hand resting on her shoulder._

"_A child of _diluted_ Dragon's blood!"_

"_Need I remind you, Your Grace, that while the Dragon may be the most powerful of all creatures, that all creatures bow before the Sun?" Elia had spoken with that steely gaze fixed on the King. For once in his reign, King Aerys had the notion to keep his mouth shut. Rhaegar had sighed quietly. There would be punishment for that slight._

_Rhaegar chanced a glance at his mother. Viserys, a boy of five was seated on her lap, playing with a model of Balerion the Black Dread. Rhaegar smiled sadly; that had been his toy once. He'd dug that up specially when he found out that his sibling was a boy. His mother, while still beautiful, had a faraway glance in her violet eyes. "Nothing but dutiful, this queen of ours," Ser Oswell Whent had once said about the queen. Rhaegar couldn't disagree. _

"_I would like to ask the Kings Grace if he would allow our childhood Maester to attend to my sister Elia when her time comes to birth the little one," Oberyn of Dorne had declared. It was phrased as a question, but the court – apart from his father – knew that Oberyn had already won. He was famous for getting what he wanted, and he wanted nothing more than his sister to be well. Seven hells, the man had begotten a bastard daughter on a Septa at Oldtown! _

_A year younger than his sister, Oberyn was a fearsome man. His reputation throughout the kingdoms grew year on year. He had an olive complexion, with luscious dark hair and eyes that matched his sisters – dark brown. But, while Elia's eyes were kind and alight with humour, Oberyn's were dark and mistrustful, and always watching. Viper's eyes. He had a dagger on his hip. Prince Lewyn had pleaded with him to remove it. Oberyn had answered that he was part of the Royal family by marriage – why would he harm his kin? It had taken Ser Arthur's intervention to stop Lewyn teaching his nephew a lesson in courtesy. Nevertheless, Old Ser Gerold Hightower stood directly in Oberyn's path. _

"_We have the _Grand _Maester here, Prince Oberyn," the king replied. "A learned man, and not a Sand." _

_Oberyn stood his ground. "Pycelle may be Grand Maester, but this was Elia's childhood Maester. He knows her-"_

"_Aye, he knows her body well enough!" The king guaffawed. Prince Lewyn clenched a fist, Arthur Dayne visibly squirmed; Dornishmen through and through. The white cloak has not changed them. Arthur thought of Elia as a sister, they'd been childhood friends. And if anyone made a slight about her, Lewyn was quick to tell them otherwise._

"_I'd much rather he treat her during her pregnancy, than have that old mans gnarled fingers on her thighs," Oberyn countered. Rhaegar saw the hint of a smirk appear on Elia's lips. Oswell Whent had to feign a cough to hide his amusement. _

"_An outrage! Your Grace should have this man thrown in the black cells for that slight. I would never harm her Highness or think of her otherwise!" Pycelle insisted, his beard quivering with rage. _

"_I'm not just a man, I am a Prince of Dorne. And you would do well to remember where the future queen came from," Oberyn replied. "I am aware that my sister is a frail and gentle person. I only want the best for her."_

"_Then it shall happen," replied Rhaegar. This could turn ugly, and the last thing he needed was his wife's brother being burned to death. Oberyn cast a small smirk his way, but Rhaegar was already helping Elia up to rest in their chambers. _

Rhaegar was brought back from his thoughts of that meeting almost three moons ago by a gurgling baby making a fuss. He glanced over to his wife and daughter and smiled softly. "My prince, she wants her father." Elia smiled softly. He once again remembered why her brother called her the 'Sun of Dorne'. When her eyes were on Rhaenys', there was no one fairer than her.

He made his way over to the bed and scooped his daughter up from Elia's arms. Cradling her, he gazed down at her; she had the Dornish look about her. Except for her eyes, they were a blue-almost-violet colour. He moved over to the open arch window and looked out at Blackwater bay. "Everything West of here is your home; everything South to the Summer sea is yours to explore; everything North of here to the Wall is yours to ride in." Though she would not rule in her own right, a match with another son could be made. He'd heard that Mace Tyrell had a young son, Willas. A match with those two could defuse the tensions between the Reach and Dorne, a feud lasting centuries.

He looked out to the sunset with his child squirming in his arms while Elia drifted to sleep. He rocked her back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. "The dragon must have three heads, and you are the first, my sweet." 

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I'm sorry, I couldn't resist getting a sassy Oberyn in there. And this does seem like the kind of stunt he'd pull. I also wanted to introduce the King fairly early on, as well as Rhaella along with a couple of other members of the Kingsguard.

If any of you are fans of the whole Rhaegar/Lyanna/Robert story where Lyanna does fall for Rhaegar, then there's a fantastic video out there which I am very fond of. If you type "this is a sadder story", in YouTube's search bar, there should be a video by 'xtaintedgracex'. It uses clips from 'Merlin' and a film I'm not quite sure on the name of, but it is really good. Highly recommended. I've also added a couple of FC's to the list below, mainly with House Martell.

**Face claims: (Bannerman and retainers will be added later).**

I've only listed the main characters involved in this for the time being. Other characters will come along with face claims later on when they become relevant. I just wanted to get the bulk of the characters out of the way beforehand.

Elia Martell is listed with the Targaryen's – she is one by marriage.  
Jaime Lannister is listed with the Kingsguard.  
I used actors from the show as well, but please bear in mind, these events take place years before the actual show timescale.  
This is my interpretation of the characters.

_**House Stark:**_

**Lyanna Stark** – Anna Popplewell. Purely because she's not the classic beauty that the other popular FC's are, and she looks the age of Lyanna at the time of her death. That's 16, not 24.  
**Brandon Stark – **Henry Cavill.  
**Eddard "Ned" Stark – **Sam Claflin.  
**Benjen Stark – **Logan Lerman.  
**Lord Rickard Stark – **Bernard Hill.

_**House Targaryen:**_

**King Aerys "The Mad King" – **Christopher Lee.  
**Queen Rhaelle – **Charlize Thereon.  
**Prince Rhaegar – **Orlando Bloom (as seen as Legolas, without the pointy ears).  
**Princess Elia – **Frieda Pinto.  
**Princess Rhaenys – **Raffey Cassidy.  
**Prince Viserys – **Dylan Sprouse (as a child).

I didn't see a point doing one for Prince Aegon, as he was just a baby, and we're not entirely sure if Aegon was Aegon when he was killed, if you know what I mean.

_**House Baratheon:**_

**Lord Robert Baratheon – **Chris Hemsworth.  
**Stannis Baratheon – **Mark Strong.

_**House Lannister: **_

**Lord Tywin Lannister – **Charles Dance.  
**Cersei Lannister – **Claire Holt.  
**Ser Kevan Lannister – **Ian Gelder.

_**House Martell:**_

**Prince Doran Martell – **Alexander Siddig.  
**Prince Oberyn Martell – **Pedro Pascal.  
**Mellario of Norvos – **Gina Torres.  
**Areo Hotah - **Lateef Crowder Dos Santos.  
**Maester Vylman (Sand) - **Joe Mantegna.

_**House Tully: **_

**Lord Hoster Tully – **Christopher Newman.**  
Ser Brynden Tully – **Clive Russell.**  
Edmure Tully – **David Wenham.**  
Catelyn Tully – **Bryce Dallas Howard.**  
Lysa Tully –** Miranda Otto.

_**House Arryn:**_

**Jon Arryn – **John Standing.

_**The Kingsguard:**_

**Ser Gerold Hightower "The White Bull" – **Stephan Lang.**  
Prince Lewyn Martell – **Oded Fehr.**  
Ser Barristan Selmy "Barristan the Bold" – **Ian McElhinney.**  
Ser Oswell Whent – **Charlie Bewley.**  
Jaime Lannister**_** – **_Bradley James.  
**Ser Arthur Dayne "Sword of the Morning" – **Clive Owen.**  
Ser Jonathor Darry – **Arnold Vosloo. 


	4. Chapter 4

**The Fall of the Dragons.  
Chapter IV: You will wed the King.**

**A/N: **So, Jaime's in Kings Landing, it's been about 2 months since his knighting. And Cersei's around. Viewer discretion is advised: Twincest. All I'm saying.

I'm making Cersei more innocent here. I don't think she was fully corrupted until she became queen, I think a lot of her actions were because she was a Lannister – she had no power, only her name in comparison to her brother; though while her ambitious and cunning nature would undoubtedly have been there from an early age and nurtured somewhat while she was in the Capitol, I still think she had those maiden fantasies and views that Sansa did about knights and chivalry, at least until her wedding night.

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**Cersei's POV, 280 AL. **

_The vivid smell of the dank herbs filled her nose; it smelled of rot and dirt and certainly not of nice herbs. For some reason, Cersei had thought this visit would be like the visit to the other fortune tellers she'd come across at the annual Lannisport fair her father let her attend. Those fortune tellers would wear silk, their look was foreign, probably from the Free Cities. They waved incense and sweet smelling sticks around her, and told her that she would become a great beauty and marry a great man – one had hinted at a Prince of a sad beauty. For once in her life, Cersei had acted like a child and squealed in delight. Jaime had rolled his eyes and her father had merely twitched his lips in amusement. Her mother had laughed along with her son and taken joy in the delight of her daughter. _

_This visit was different. The woman was old and ugly; she had large bags under her eyes, a freakish purple in colour. Her skin had a light coloured tint to it underneath the darkness of her skin, and her lips were dark blue, cracked. She continually licked them as if that could cure them. She was not from Westeros, but Cersei could not say where she was from._

_Gazing at the woman, the young girl felt a shiver go down her spine. _ You are a lioness. You are not scared, _she thought. That gave her strength. She heard a wail from behind her and Jayne Farman ran from the tent in fear. Cersei huffed indignantly. She still had Melara with her. She and Melara cast a glance at each other; Cersei saw fear in her eyes, but Melara was brave enough to stay. Melara was a pretty girl, the same age as Cersei, with long brown hair and big brown eyes and a kind face. She would never compare to the Lannister beauty though. _

_Cersei glanced at the fortune teller. Her eyes were onyx black, the iris looking yellow. She supposed that was with age. "You are a fortune teller?" She asked, pleased her voice did not break._

"_I am. Who asks?" The woman they dubbed 'Maggy the Frog' really was ignorant. Instead of listening to her and addressing Lord Tywin's daughter properly, she turned her head down and fiddled with some ornaments._

"_I want to know my future, what will be made of Lord Tywin's flesh," she demanded, her green eyes narrowing to slits; like a lioness hunting her prey._

_One thing could be said for Maggy the Frog; she looked like one when she laughed. What was left of her chin retreated into her neck. She looked like she had five chins or one neck that resembled a tree trunk when she threw her head back to laugh her throaty laugh. "You throw that man's name around like you Lannister's throw your gold around. Your future is not one I'd like to read; it is a horror, and would entertaining to watch it unfold."_

_Cersei would have growled if she had forgotten herself. Instead, she drew her ten year old self up to her fullest height and put on a commanding voice. "I demand to know what my future holds. My father promised me the hand of the Crown Prince, and he is here with the King for a tourney. You __**WILL**__ tell me, or I'll have your head on a spike outside Casterly Rock."_

_Maggy said nothing, but looked at Cersei curiously. Finally, she sighed. "Come here then, sit and hold out your hand." Cersei did as she bid, with Melara following suit. Cersei stiffened when she saw the woman bring out a dagger. She kept her hand still as the woman drew a drop of blood and gazed at the knife as she brought it over the candle. She was muttering in another language and she dropped the blood gathered on the steel onto the flame. Melara jumped back at the reaction, but Cersei remained where she was. "You have three questions you can ask me, child."_

"_When will I wed the prince?"_

"_Never. You will wed the king."_

"_I will be queen, though?"_

"_Aye. Queen you shall be... Until there comes another, younger and more beautiful, to cast you down and take all that you hold dear."_

_Cersei had one more question left. She knew her duty as a wife. "Will the king and I have children?"_

"_Oh, aye. Six-and-ten for him, and three for you. Gold shall be their crowns and gold their shrouds. And when your tears have drowned you, the valonqar shall wrap his hands about your pale white throat and choke the life from you." A sadistic smile crossed the woman's face. Cersei knew the meaning of that word. _Tyrion, _she thought bitterly. He'd already killed their mother, now he would do away with her at some point?_

_Melara looked on eagerly, almost bouncing in her seat with anticipation. "Can you tell me mine?" _

"_Certainly. Your hand, my child," Maggy said, all sadism gone from her face. She took the blood from the new gash on Melara's hand and dropped it into the flame. Cersei's hand was still on the table, but Melara had moved her hand to her lap, concealing it. "Three questions you may ask of me, child."_

" _Will I marry Jaime?" Cersei's head turned sharply. She knew of Melara's infatuation with her twin and the directness of the question worried her. Jaime was _hers.

" _Not Jaime, nor any other man. Worms will have your maidenhead. Your death is here tonight, little one. Can you smell her breath? She is very close." Cersei's hand lashed out and threw a potion in the woman's face. Cersei fled quickly, Melara straight after her. They heard the old crone screeching in her language. She could keep her prophecies; she was Cersei of House Lannister. She was a lioness._

Cersei awoke in the middle of the night in a cold sweat. All she could see in front of her was the old witch's face with her sadistic smile and frog like neck billowing as she laughed. She clutched her bed sheet closer to her. _You are a lioness of the Rock. You are not afraid. _ She left her bed and grabbed a glass of water from the marble polished table. Her hands shook as she poured the jug and downed the tepid liquid. She wrung her hands before she was aware of what she was doing. Dropping her hands to her side, she fidgeted with her shift. She tired of that as well. She made her way to the large window in her chambers and pulled the curtain back a little. She could see the first lights of day beginning to creep over the horizon. She sighed softly. The view out of her window left her to gaze at the port of Blackwater Bay, the harbour and the Narrow Sea. It was a lovely view, for a city over-crowded and polluted.

She would not sleep this close to dawn. She wandered around her room in the Tower of the Hand; past the four poster bed with its lion drapes, crimson quilt, and golden pillows and throw-overs and oak bedframe. The room was decorated in pale gold to compliment the red of the rock walls. The hearth had nearly burned out. Shaped like the open jaws of a lion on her father's orders, its mane flickering upwards covering the main body of the chimney in her room, it covered most of the west wall of her room, and her chamber was on the South Western side of the castle.

She paced restlessly, her feet brushing the soft wool of the crimson rug with a pride of lions on it; 4 lions. Two females and two males. She'd had it put in her room on her father's orders after her brothers birth, after her mother's death. She had one like it back in Casterly Rock. Tyrion had one in his room. Jaime had refused to have one, telling his father that Tyrion was a lion to, even if he was a little one. Cersei had said that Tyrion should be a maggot filled lion.

Then she remembered, _Ser _Jaime Lannister would be passing through the Capital to visit. She smiled wryly at that. She had missed her brother, but father had been making her attend days with the other ladies and the Princess Elia. Not that Elia had been around much with the birth of her daughter.

Hours passed, and dawn turned into morning, the sun shining bright on the Blackwater. She waited impatiently for the arrival of her brother. She hadn't seen him for years; he'd been squiring or in Casterly Rock, while she'd been here in the Capital with her father while he served as Hand of the King.

"Cersei," she heard a soft murmur behind her. She turned, a smile on her face and saw her other half standing there. Jaime looked resplendent in new armour; a golden lion on crimson. She ran to him and hugged him, her hands twining around his neck and ruffling themselves in his hair. Jaime's hands slid down her body to rest at her hips. "You've grown more beautiful since the last time I saw you."

"When was that? It's been too long," Cersei spoke back to him softly, cupping his face in her hands. "You stand taller. Has knighthood gone to your head already? You've had two moons to adjust to the new title." Venom had leaked its way into her voice.

"Still unhappy about being _Lady _Cersei _Lannister_ instead of _Princess _Cersei _Targaryen_? I never knew you to be the jealous type." Jaime turned out of her embrace and ambled his way over to her sofa, where he sprawled out. "Joining me?"

Cersei turned on her heel to close the door, her crimson skirts swirling around her. "I haven't missed you that much, brother."

"I always knew when you were lying. I still do. There's a wet patch on your dress." Cersei looked at the belly of her dress, catching Jaime smirking at her. "By your cunt," he drawled.

"Now who's missed who the most?" Still, Cersei walked over to him, her emerald eyes locked onto his as he watched her every move. "I've been so lonely here, Jaime. I need you to keep me company."

"You know father will never allow me to stay here. I come here in a fleeting visit. About to rescue my fair maiden from a night of loneliness."

"Only a night? I need you. Father is always busy, and I've never known how to talk to him. And the ladies are all fluttering about Elia while she _still _recovers from labour. It shouldn't take this long for her to recover from the birthing bed."

"Why don't you come back to Casterly Rock and ask our lady mother the same thing? You hate the result of the last labour she endured."

"Tyrion is a monster. He killed her. Mother, dead for him. He's a deformed-"

"He's your brother, Cersei!" Jaime shoved her arm angrily. "He's smart, and wants to know all about our family. He doesn't know why people who should love him despise him so. And I'm not being the one to explain this to him."

Cersei glared at his exasperated face. He looked disappointed in her. She had a right to hate the creature that took her mother away. And despite what the Martell's thought, Tyrion was not a baby. Not a normal baby. "I don't want to fight," she said meekly, moving to sit on the edge of her bed. Jaime came to her, as he always did. He took her in his arms, her head against his stomach, his hands entwining themselves in her hair.

"I don't want to fight either," he sighed, his calloused hands softly rubbing her scalp. Her hands knotted themselves around his waist as she breathed his scent; sea salt, sweat and honey. Jaime was always fond of honey on his food.

"I've been praying to the Warrior that you'd get here safe."

"Why do you need the Warrior?"

"I don't have a knight to protect me, to keep me company here."

"You have me." He bent down and pressed his lips to hers. Their mouths moved in tandem, before he grew more urgent. His tongue swept across her lips and her mouth opened for him, their tongues entwining in a quick, vicious dance.

Her hands tugged at his tunic, pulling it upwards – he had changed into simpler clothes to visit his sister – while his hands urgently clawed at her dress, pulling at the lace and tugging it down over her form.

They tumbled into the bed; he kissed every part of her skin as she writhed and groaned in passion underneath him. His lips trailed down his neck, to her collarbone, to her pale perfect breasts. One hand reached underneath to hold her back, the other hand trailed down to her sex and felt the wet patch there amongst the golden curls at the apex of her thighs. He groaned as he inserted two fingers inside her. She writhed underneath him, panting his name, and pulling on his hair.

He groaned her name as he bit into her neck, before he moved his hand away and hovered over her, kissing her briefly as he lined his hips with hers and thrust deep.

He collapsed on top of her some minutes later, panting, breathless, his body slick and smooth with sweat against hers. He rolled off of her to lie next to her, one hand splayed on her stomach, drawing meaningless patterns.

Cersei knew that to get what she wanted she'd have to act the innocent. She bit her lower lip and turned her emerald eyes to her twin, her hand resting on his forearm. "Jaime... we can be together. You can take the white-"

"Father would never allow it; I'm his heir."

"You are _my _twin – my other half. Please, I need you. The old man is on his deathbed, they'll need someone young to replace him. Who's better than the Lion of Lannister?"

"I am a Lannister, not a knight of the Kingsguard. My place is at Casterly Rock."

"Remember before I left? You said your place was by me." Tears filled Cersei's eyes as she trailed her lips over her brother's body, coming to straddle him. She curled in close to him, her breasts pressing against his chest. Jaime groaned and lifted her hips up.

That night, after the formalities of dinner with father were complete, Cersei found herself being pulled into an alcove by a strong arm. Jaime. "I'll do it. I'll take the white. For you. For us."

Cersei kissed him long and hard.

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**Face claims:**

I've deleted the full list, as it was distracting looking at pictures of hot actors... yeah, that's all. I'll only be updating with new characters.

**New characters: (Characters in these '{ }' are flashback characters only. Some characters may not be representive of actual ages in the rest of the story.)**

**{Melara Heatherspoon – **Mackenzie Foy.  
**Young(er) Cersei - **Dakota Fanning Young.  
**Joanna Lannister - **Annabelle Wallis.  
**Maggy the Frog – **Naomie Harris (just imagine her fatter and uglier, if that's at all possible. She's what I had in mind when I was writing the character's personality and demeanour.)**}**

**Next chapter: The White Knight of Harrenhal.**

Ser Oswell Whent goes home where there is talk of a tourney. 


	5. Chapter 5

**The Fall of the Dragons.  
Chapter 5: The White Knight of Harrenhal.**

**A/N: **I've had a couple of PM's asking about the old knight in the last chapter when Cersei was seducing Jaime; while Cersei would know of the knight and his name, I didn't think that when she was trying to get her brother inside of her, she'd go into specifics. I was accused of skipping on information. This chapter would always be the one to fill information in relevant to that story. This also marks out the beginning of the Tourney of Harrenhal.

This is a filler chapter for the next couple, just to start to introduce the tourney, and later events.

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**Ser Oswell Whent POV, 280 AL.**

He rode with a large company; Targaryen soldiers, squires, a Maester, cooks, serving wenches, minstrels, bards and a drunk that had joined the party on the way. The drunk craved the attention of the White Knight every evening when camp was made and tried to ride by him when dawn crept up and the party set off again. He'd suffered the drunk for three long weeks since the party had left the Crownlands.

Astride his stallion, Ser Oswell Whent rode at the front of the party, the white banner of the Kingsguard streaming on his right, the black bat of House Whent on his left. He hadn't visited home for near on five years, when his great niece had been born. He thought on his brother and how he was called 'Old Lord Whent'; Oswell was twenty years his brothers junior – due to their re-marrying after his first wife died after birthing one son and 3 daughters. His brother had already become a knight at the age of ten and nine when his mother fell pregnant. He had a loving family around him; there was no resentment for his father re-marrying. And when his father died, there was a dispute as to who should take the Lordship for House Whent. Some lords thought it should be the elder son, as custom decreed; others thought it should be Oswell as he was the son of the most recent lady. Before the Tully's could get involved, Oswell took the White, effectively ending that dispute. And House Whent had lived in peace in a less than peaceful castle.

Harenhal was an intimidating castle. It had been the seat of House Whent for near on half a century years. Oswell still found himself captivated by the size of the desecrated towers, the sheer magnitude of the castle grounds. The godswood covered near on fifty acres of land. Riding through the gates, he was greeted by his brother descending the steps.

"Oswell, it's been too long. How have you been?" his brother asked fondly, his piercing blue eyes – their fathers eyes – boring into his own.

"Well enough. Looks like home hasn't burnt anymore." A jest between the two brothers since Oswell had taken the white cloak up was if home would be burnt down anymore between visits. Oswell had actually helped Princess Rhaenys' – who liked to draw – design a picture of Harrenhal if it had been burnt anymore. The little Princess had instead decided to amuse herself by sketching a piece of coal, with a man on his knees staring at the ruin before him. Rhaegar had told her all the stories, and she always managed to get Oswell to tell her more. Oswell had sent that to his brother at Elia's insistence – a glint of humour in her eyes - and his brother had seen the jest made by the child and sent Rhaenys' a necklace with a golden bat inlaid on the chain. Rhaenys was nearing a year old, and was a smart child – she spent hours drawing anything that came to mind.

"Come, we'll talk in my solar." The Lord of Harrenhal led him to the solar, after Oswell had got rid of the drunk and entrusted his horse to a stable hand. The solar, like most of the castle, was dark and gloomy with traces of Balerion's fury left in the scorch marks, and the melted tar along the walls. Bats decorated the room, and did the insignia of House Whent. Walking in, Oswell was greeted by his niece, a maiden of six-and-ten, who had yet to find a suitable suitor.

"Uncle! Your visits are too few and far," Marei said as she hugged him. Oswell embraced her back, planting a kiss to her forehead.

"The last time I saw you, you were demanding that I teach you how to ride, and how to fight. I would've done, had your father not threatened to skin me alive!" He gasped in mock horror, a gentle grin tossed his brother's way.

Lord Whent smirked, "I'm thinking of marrying her off to some old Frey..."

"My niece is better than the spawn of that old git."

Marei laughed, "No need to fret Uncle, I'd skin him alive." She tossed a wink at her Uncle, curtseyed to her father and left the room to pursue ladylike activities.

Oswell took a seat, the one next to his brother, on his right. Oswell poured himself a goblet of wine, and turned in his chair to face his brother. "A Frey?"

"I told her I'd do that as punishment," Lord Whent chuckeld, Oswell shaking his head in amusement. "I have sent a raven to Tywin Lannister, inquiring after Ser Jaime."

"Tywin wants a first born daughter from one of the Great Houses to wed to his son. The only one eligible would be the Martells with their Princess Arianne. Last I heard, Lyanna Stark had been betrothed to Robert Baratheon, and Catelyn Tully to Brandon Stark."

"You've heard correct. Although, I am hoping a tourney would lure prospective spouses here. Maybe even a Dornish Prince..."

"Oberyn?! That man is dangerous, has bastards everywhere and-"

"And he is the brother of the future Queen, and Uncle to the heir to Rhaegar."

Oswell thrummed his fingers against the table. "Oberyn won't wed. He doesn't believe in the marriage vows, and refuses to keep to one bed."

"You heard this from where?"

"From Elia. And several Dornish ladies at court. The stories are quite salacious."

"I have heard of them, you do not need to remind exactly who's sheathed Oberyn's sword," Lord Whent commented dryly, taking a sip from his wine. "What other news from the Capitol?"

"Harlan Grandison appears to be growing weaker in his old age. He was a fierce fighter when I joined, near on ten-and-two years ago, but now... The man is old, his body is tired. He guards the young Prince, and carries messages. That's all he can do." Oswell pursed his lips and drank deeply from his cup. He pondered his thoughts for a minute. "The Grand Maester also took offence when Oberyn came to visit, and he believes that Winter is coming to an end. Not this year, mayhaps next year."

"Then I'll have a tourney. Show off the wealth of the House. You present the idea to the Royal family, and I'll send the letters out. A grand idea. A grand tourney, in the most despicable place in the Kingdom." The brother's chuckled darkly, and spent the next few hours debating the plans of the tourney.

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**Face claims: (Bannerman and retainers will be added later).**

**Old Lord Whent – **Christopher Heyerdahl.  
**Marei Whent – **Indiana Evans.

**Chapter 6: The stag in the Bird Cage – **News of the tourney reaches the Eyrie, where Ned and Robert are fostered.


End file.
